As the motorcycle accident plays out, I’m outside my body and watch as we crash, bounce and fly in slow motion until I’m suddenly back in my body, a sharp crack as my helmeted head hits the street pavement, a strange knowing that I will land soon. The darkness quickly descends, a massive swirling blackness like a raging tornado that is taking me up, crushing, suffocating so that I can’t breathe, can’t get my breath. There is an edge of light, a sliver crescent in the distant darkness that I imagine as the edge to a single breath that must be seized. With sudden and tremendous strength, I force one tremulous breath in and out, in and out, in and out until the darkness slowly lifts. I open my eyes, bright sunlight, I am sitting with my back against a stone wall, legs outstretched, one shoe missing, breathing hard and heavy as if my chest might explode. The edge of light expansive now, each breath slowing and further deepening to fill me. The light, my breath, life saved, I am.
I suffered a motorcycle crash along the Amalfi Coast, Italy, 2008 and in the aftermath fell in love with its people, places, and their stories.
Jane LaChance
Earlier Entries
Dawn of a New Day